Tender Loving Care
by Luna-k
Summary: Doctor Victor Von Doom comes down with something.  Loki steps in.  Mix of Thor movie verse and Marvel comic verse.  Movie Loki/Comic Doom


**A/N:**

**I get a kick out of these two. Once this popped into my head I couldn't resist.**

**Comments are always immensely appreciated.**

"Doom will not allow such insolence!" Victor Von Doom shouted at the cowering servant before him. "If you do not-" _Hack, Cough_, "Listen and-" Doom's scolding was interrupted by a deep rumbling cough that racked his large armor clad body and shook his forest green cloak.

"Your M-Majesty, are you-" the hireling attempted, but was silenced by a wave of his master's hand.

"Silence! Doom is..." He paused briefly to clear his throat proactively, "...Speaking! Now, can I expect you to follow my-" He stopped, frustration written clearly on him, and begin to cough violently once again.

His attendant looked wildly unclear as to the correct course of action.

Across the room, Loki rolled his hooded eyes. The god sighed and leaned back in his towering chair before standing and crossing the large castle room. When he reached them, his partner in crime was hacking unceremoniously while the frightened servant alternated between staring in confusion at his king and gazing in nervous discomfort at the ornate Latverian carpet beneath his feet.

Loki clasped his hands behind his back and smiled pleasantly. He raised his dark eyebrows and inclined his head expectantly when he didn't receive a response from either Doom or his manservant (due to frustrated coughing and paralyzing fear, respectively).

Doom patted himself on the chest to clear it and turned to pay the waiting deity his attention.

"Yes?" His voice was rough and forced, sounding as if he relaxed his throat he would be subjected to another fit. "What do you need Loki?"

"I'd like a word, Victor"

"Fine. What must we speak of?"

"You. Is there a reason you're up?"

"Is there a reason not to be?" Doom asked testily.

"You are ill, obviously." Loki said, looking properly concerned.

"Doom is busy." Doom stated firmly.

"Clearly," Loki appeased, "But you are no less ill for it either."

"So, what is Doom to do, crawl into bed?" He grunted and held back another cough.

"Rest, would be my humble suggestion."

"There is a kingdom to run. Doom does not have the luxury to lounge about!" Doom snapped.

"Of course not." Loki said with curt civility, although his cheeks hollowed and brow raised slightly at the other's tone. "However, even you cannot conquer Midgard if you cannot take in a breath without your chest rattling."

Doom said nothing but still managed to convey his displeasure.

"All I'm suggesting is for you to rest, today, only today." Loki paused and took a step closer, resting one long fingered hand on Doom's metallic bicep. "I would assume that you rule Latveria, not the other way around, which would make it firmly within your rights to see to your own needs." He leaned in even closer and dropped his voice even farther. "Plus, if you just allow yourself to heal, I shall see you well rewarded, when your strength returns of course." Loki punctuated his statement with a small smile and pulled away.

Doom took in a contemplative breath, and upon discovering that it induced his lungs into an unpleasant state, he brusquely nodded his head.

"Very well. Doom shall see to his proper recuperation." He said and turned on his heal and began to make his way to the door.

Loki followed swiftly but turned back to the hovering servant.

"You, follow us." He crooked his fingers with the order.

"Ye-Yes, my lord, uh, majesty? Er, divineness?" The unnerved man skittered after them into the hall.

Loki smiled his small subtly smug smile at his victory as they made their way to Doctor Doom's bedchambers. Doom needed to rest; Loki couldn't have his human working his fragile mortal body to death after all.

Doom swept through the large dark doors to his chambers. Loki followed, but the servant stopped short at the open archway.

"Send him away!" Doom called back to Loki as he disappeared into a farther room.

The small manservant hurriedly spun to leave but was quickly halted.

"Wait." Loki returned to the doorway. One hand resting on the hard frame, he ran his tongue over his bottom lip in thought before he returned his focus to the jittery employee. "Bring me a large pot...But _not_," He emphasized, "one of those lustrous ones that makes it folly to scratch against the bottom. Midgardians still have iron pots, don't you?"

The servant nodded, trying not to be too doe-eyed.

"Good. Retrieve one for me. And while you're gone you must get whatever is necessary for me to hang it over the fireplace. When you return, I will have a list prepared for you. You'll then go search out the herbs on said list."

When it appeared as though the god was turning away, the hireling found his voice.

"Would you, um... Would you prefer a burner?" He asked weakly.

Loki's eyes swiveled back and forth briefly as if searching for something.

"Burner?"

"A miniature stove top. Much more...convenient than making a fire."

"Oh. Well, that does sound more convenient." Loki smiled, but the expression was not in the least bit reassuring. "Get me a 'burner' then. Make haste." He waved his hand and followed Doom further into his chambers.

Loki found Doom's personal room darkened and Victor already in the bed. The god set himself down on the side of the bed and leaned back on his hands.

"Your servant is bringing me herbs. I expect you to drink what I give you. I assure you, without it you will not be well by morning."

Doom let out a small low chuckle.

"How demanding you are."

"Am I?" Loki said innocently. "Maybe so, but I doubt you'd have it otherwise."

"D-divineness? Are you there?" A voice called from the outer rooms.

Loki disappeared from the bed and reemerged to receive his errand boy.

The man held a metal coil on a small table with one hand and a cast iron pot swung from the other.

"Set them by the tapestry. Yes, there. Bring me these." Loki held out a hand to drop a small roll of paper into the human's awaiting hands (a piece of paper the servant would have sworn did not exist seconds previously).

"Yes, of course." The man answered obsequiously and fled the room again.

Loki re-entered Doom's bedroom with something in hand, although it was obscured by the darkness.

Doom watched in silence as the divine silhouette tinkered with whatever he'd brought on the mahogany table by the bed.

Soon enough, Loki again briefly took leave, only to return to the table. Doom could hear the small small music of water being poured. The standing silhouette continued to do something or other to the bulbous shape on the end table. He fiddled and stirred for some minutes as Doom lay in bed, watching.

Finally, Loki reached for the goblet Doom kept close at hand and tipped what Doom now took to be cook-wear over it.

"Here." Loki held out the goblet. "Sit up and drink this. It should be just the thing to have you up by tomorrow morning."

"What is this?" Doom asked as he righted himself.

"Nothing poisonous, on my honor." Loki said with mischievous humor and placed his free hand dramatically over his heart.

"Hah. So one would hope, my wicked trickster."

Doom took the cup from his impishly smiling companion and smelled the concoction, took a small sip to gauge the taste, then bravely downed the entire contents in one long gulp.

"Very good." Loki complimented as he took back the goblet and began to refill it. "I'm leaving this here in case you wake in the night. Don't pretend you don't need it Victor, I'll know if you didn't take it."

"I'm sure you would." Doom said in amusement.

"All's settled then." Loki stood as he ran his hands down over his legs as if to dust them off.

The god leaned over into the darkness of the canopy and pressed his lips to Dooms over warm forehead.

"Now sleep."


End file.
